


Connecting the Dots: An Alex Hawkins Oneshot

by Accidental_Ducky



Series: A Father's Compromise [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Jim's a dramatic little shit, M/M, Past Relationships, mormor, parentmor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky
Summary: “Hello, Alexander,” the man greets with that same Irish inflection from the video,” I’m your father.” He definitely fit with the men Alex’s mom brought around every now and then, but it was his dark eyes that made Alex’s breath hitch. They were his eyes, he saw them each time he looked in a mirror and it didn’t take long for him to piece everything together.And, seeing the recognition in his eyes, Moriarty grinned.





	

Alex Hawkins was only eight when every screen in England was hijacked by a man with slicked back hair, the phrase _miss me_ repeating over and over, coming from every direction until it seemed to drown out the sounds of people and honking cars. The man looked vaguely familiar, but Alex couldn’t really pin it down to any one memory that would shed light. Figuring it was some kind of stunt, he looked up at his mother and expected her to say something about the silliness of people these days, but he finds her frozen with her mouth hanging open.

“Mama,” he asks, tugging gently on her coat sleeve. “What is it?”

“Oh, God,” she breathes, hand shaking as she grips Alex’s shoulder tightly,” he’s _alive_.”

“Who is he?” It seemed to take all her strength to tear her gaze away from the massive screen in the middle of London, tears making her dark eyes glisten, but she didn’t allow them to fall. He’d never seen his mother cry before, she was always strong and happy despite everything she went through.

“Come on, we need to go to the house.” _The house_ , not _home_ , the distinction was important considering the former was a safe-house in Drogheda right above a bookshop. She tries to pull him along with her, but Alex resists and shrugs her hand off of his shoulder. “Alexander Davin Hawkins, you listen to me!”

“Answer my question first.” If nothing else, Alex was extremely stubborn to the point of annoyance. His mother always pointed it out, but she was beginning to panic as the deep, Irish drawl continued to repeat. Alex liked the sound of it, recognizing it from somewhere, singing lullabies. “Please, Mama.” He widened his eyes and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout he knew his mother couldn’t resist.

“He’s….” He’d never seen his mother so flustered, not even after learning Sherlock Holmes had used her to get at her boss. “He’s a real bastard, now move it.” Frowning, Alex allows his mom to grab the back of his jacket and pull him after her, struggling to keep up with her long stride. Even in heels, Janine could probably outrun an Olympic sprinter.

“Was he around when I was little?”

“Why?” He voice was strained and almost angry, like she couldn’t believe he’d ask her that. He didn’t understand, but he knew he probably wouldn’t get any real answers soon. “He’s no one you need to know, honey.” Alex moves as fast as he can, the two of them practically running all the way back to their temporary flat. Boxes were piled up all over the place as they’d been preparing to move to a cottage in Sussex Downs, but it seemed that would be put off until his mother felt safe. “Go to your room and get your emergency suitcase.”

“Yes, Mama.” He knew better than to argue when it came to emergencies, though that didn’t stop him from dragging his feet all the way to his bedroom. He makes it all the way there without incident, but pauses when he finds a blonde girl perched on the edge of his bed, hair in pigtails and a stuffed elephant toy in her hands. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“My daddy wants to talk to your mama,” she answers with a shrug. Alex recognized her from school, but she was a year below him and he didn’t like playing with girls. “You’re Alex Hawkins, right? You punched that bully that pushed me down last month.” That’s right, he did. The older boy had been picking on her because she had two dads, but Alex had put a stop to it with a carefully aimed left hook that Mary Watson had taught him.

“That’s right.” He shuffles awkwardly in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his coat. He didn’t know what to do, he’s never had a girl in his room before and he didn’t really like that she’d made herself at home.

“Alex!” His mother’s shout had Alex running before he realized exactly what was happening, skidding to a stop in the dining room when he found a blond man sitting at the table. He looked a lot like the little girl and Alex realized he must be her daddy when she comes inside and crawls up onto the stranger’s lap. Janine quickly latches onto Alex, pushing him behind her so she was between him and the weirdos invading their home. “Why are you here, Moran?” _That’s her name, Thalia Moran_.

“Boss sent me,” the man answers. His accent was a bit rough, but Alex could still hear the posh drawl most aristocrats had. “As you can tell, he’s come back from the dead.”

“Always was dramatic. _Why are you here?_ He’s never pulled a public stunt like this before, never sent his pet to check up on us, so why now?” The man’s eyes flick to Alex, taking in the ruffled black hair, pale skin, and brown eyes that seemed to inspect every inch of the stranger. He was smarter than most of the kids in his class, but Alex figured he inherited that from his mom.

“He wants to be more involved now that he knows he can handle it. His…. Er, doom and gloom days don’t happen so often anymore.” Alex glances up at his mom, seeing the hard resolve in the way she tensed her jaw and the defiance burning in her eyes. Janine Hawkins could stand up to anyone and come out on the winning side.

“What happens if I say no?”

“The checks keep coming, he stays away, and you can pretend this never happened.” The man shrugs just like his daughter had earlier, completely at ease. Thalia was reclined against him, playing with the floppy ears of her stuffed animal like this was a standard situation. “That display with the TVs isn’t for you anyway, it’s for a _friend_ in the government.” For a while Alex was sure his mom would toss these two out on their heads, but she eventually gave a curt nod of her head. “Wonderful.” He pulls a phone out of his pocket and presses something before replacing it.

“Is Daddy coming in now,” Thalia asks hopefully.

“Yes, Daddy’s coming.”

“She’s not his,” Janine states, dark brows furrowing over her eyes.

“No, but he’s helped to look after her ever since she was born. My ex-wife didn’t mind sharing her and it was a lifesaver when she was still an infant.”

“Yes, I remember that he had a gift with putting stubborn children to sleep.” There was a sound of the front door closing gently and then footsteps on the hardwood floor, coming steadily closer to the dining room where they were all waiting. Alex holds onto the sleeve of his mom’s coat, dark eyes focused on the doorway as he waited. And finally, after tense moments that seemed to last a lifetime, the mysterious man was walking inside, heading straight for the Moran family with a fond smile.

“Who are you,” Alex asks, stepping out from behind his mother. It was the man from the screens, shorter in person even though he was several feet taller than Alex; thin brows, high cheekbones, a long nose that was a bit rounded at the bottom, Cupid’s bow lips, and a bit of dark stubble on his cheeks.

“Hello, Alexander,” the man greets with that same Irish inflection from the video,” I’m your father.” He definitely fit with the men Alex’s mom brought around every now and then, but it was his dark eyes that made Alex’s breath hitch. They were _his_ eyes, he saw them each time he looked in a mirror and it didn’t take long for him to piece everything together. _It’s the man that sends checks every Wednesday so that I can keep going to my private school_.

And, seeing the recognition in his eyes, Moriarty grinned.


End file.
